


a prickling of her heart

by ellarree



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Love Never Dies - Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Character Study, Createcember 2020, F/F, Headcanon: meg killed herself after LND, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Period-Typical Homophobia, a little bit of erik bashing, background eristine, megstine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellarree/pseuds/ellarree
Summary: A character study of Meg at the end of LND, written with megstine in mind
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Meg Giry
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	a prickling of her heart

**Author's Note:**

> written for createcember 2020 day 24: beauty

A little boy cries in his mother’s dressing room, all alone among a motley collection of gifts — a sealed letter, a single red rose — and wondering why in the world nobody has come to fetch him. There is a presence, barely enough to be sensed, in the crisp air, though nobody can be seen in the room. He tentatively rises half-way out of his spot against the wall, then slumps back down, tears flowing even faster now. The nice lady in that funny swimsuit had brought him back here, but she’d left soon after, promising to return as soon as she could.

Meg slips down the hallway towards the concealed viewing platform the Phantom had built above the stage. She knows there is no need for secrecy — everybody is down in the wings, eagerly awaiting the appearance of the stunning Vicomtess — but she wants a little bit more privacy to say her own silent goodbyes. It is, perhaps, cowardly of her to leave forever without telling the only person she cares about, but it is precisely that care which holds her back. Below her, the orchestra starts a transcendent melody, light violins intertwining to form something darker, more mature, more  _Christine_. For Meg, these same instruments released bouncy, scandalous ditties, a far cry from the sweeping orchestras of the past yet still somehow beautiful in their own right. And even so, it pales in comparison to the heavenly angel on the stage. Bedecked in sapphires and oversized cobalt feathers, she is the very image of beauty, radiant beyond compare. This, this is why Meg cannot tell her goodbye one last time. What words can possibly explain why she is giving up? How can she tell this perfect angel of her forbidden addiction, her immeasurable adoration for the woman on stage, true beauty personified in blue?

As the last notes die away, seeming a cruel mockery of her decision to end her, and her love for the splendid songbird, Meg weeps at the cruel irony of it all. She, who could have had near any man, pining over the one person who was always forbidden her, throwing away a secure future on the stage to end the pain of separation. As she fetches the little boy with those tear-stained cheeks from her idol’s dressing room, her pale dress begins its descent into a darker blue to rival that of her love’s feathery gown, and her skin starts to acclimate to the saltiness of tears, a mirror of the tumultuous sea.

Her heart and soul were scarred long ago, and she chooses to shatter them further in order to save the only person who ever really mattered. Christine’s beauty must remain unmarred by the sinful impulses Meg hides inside of herself. Glancing back towards Phantasma one final time, Meg lets out a quietly whimpered declaration of her true feelings, soft enough that the confused boy clutching her hand cannot hear.

Gustave does not hear it, no, but a songbird of cobalt feathers feels a prickling of her heart, and somehow knows where she  needs  to be. Gasping softly, she chases after the weeping duo, and reaches the pier before it is too late. Meg has no choice, caught between a rock and a hard place, unwilling to end it in front of the one person she is trying to free. And oh, how she frees her! A crack of gunpowder, a clattering rail, a scream of anger from a repulsive man who never really knew any of the women on that godforsaken pier, and Christine is freed from the constraints of mortal life! Released up into the heavens among angels, their beauty paling in comparison to her splendor. Meg watches as those hands grow pale and limp, before wailing out one last lament for her lost life. She falls into the sea with a single name on her lips, never to know that her feelings were not sinful but beautiful. She cannot see that she is beautiful too.


End file.
